


Christmas Cookies

by LieutenantSaavik



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Multi, cookie-baking!, ft. cultural sensitivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantSaavik/pseuds/LieutenantSaavik
Summary: Written for an All Caps fic swap!!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rc1788](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rc1788/gifts).



It’s mid-December in Brooklyn, and while it’s chilly outside, in Steve’s apartment’s dining room, it’s comfortably warm and glowing. Sam’s reading through the newspaper while Bucky appears to be simultaneously drinking coffee (or just inhaling the steam from it), knotting and untangling a piece of string (his latest coping mechanism), and looking out the window, hoping for it to snow.

 

Steve comes into the room, a pancake flipper in his hand.

“Hey Sam? Bucky?”

“Yeah?” Sam asks, looking up from his crossword puzzle. 

Bucky raises his head from his cup of morning coffee. “What is it, Steve?”

Steve settles down next to Sam at the dining room table. “Before I make breakfast… I’ve got an idea for what to do for Christmas this year.”

Bucky’s expression is unreadable and Steve almost second-guesses himself, pausing. Sam, though, looks intrigued. “Don’t leave us hanging. Come on, man. Shoot.”

Steve smiles. “One of the homeless shelters here in Brooklyn is hosting a party for the children there who are still waiting for their foster parents. I was thinking we should lend our names to it, help it out. Donate some money, maybe provide some practical help in any way we can.”

“That’s a fantastic idea,” says Sam. “Dude. With Captain America  _ and _ Falcon involved, it’ll be the best party ever.”

Bucky smiles. Then the brief expression of joy slides off his face. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Steve. And you’ll help so many people.” He pauses. “But what am I going to do? Nobody wants the- well.” He shrugs and makes a decision. “I’ll do the behind-the-scenes. Like making decorations.”

“Would you be able to, though?” Sam asks. “With….”

Bucky lifts his metal arm. “You’d be surprised what this can do,” he says. “I mean, it might occasionally break tables-”

“Occasionally,” Steve mutters. 

“Hey!”

Sam cackles. 

“It might occasionally, yes,  _ occasionally _ , break tables, but it can do a lot. I can do a lot. I can do this.”

He seems to be convincing himself just as much as anyone else. “I can do this.”

“Damn right.” Steve stands. “So it’s a go, then?”

“Definitely,” Sam replies.

“Great. What exactly should we do?”

“Christmas cookies,” Bucky says quietly, intensely, to Steve. “Sarah used to make them for us. In those funny shapes, remember?”

“The christmas tree looked more like a slug, when we tried it.” Steve smiles, remembering. “And that’s a great idea, Buck. I had the same idea, actually. It’s something a parent would do, a small detail these kids might not have in their lives.”

“And we should get them a tree,” Sam says. “Definitely a tree. And some ornaments, so they can decorate it themselves.”

“So cookies, tree?”

“Maybe a menorah?” Bucky asks. “For the Jewish children. Or for everyone, really.”

“Don’t forget the kinara and seven candles, too,” Sam adds. “Three green, one black, three red. And stockings!” he snaps his fingers. “We should fill stockings for each of the kids.”

Steve grins. “I’ll go out and grab a tree. Do you think you guys can do cooking duty? I already made some dough.”

“Someone thought ahead. Guess you had this all planned out before asking us, huh?” Sam remarks.

“Well, it’s not like I thought you guys would say no.”

Sam and Bucky chuckle. “No worries,” says Sam. “Bucky and I’ll make the cookies. You pick the biggest, best tree you can.”

“Alright.” Steve stands and follows Sam into the kitchen, flicking on the light as he does so.

“Um,” says Bucky. He lingers at the entrance to the kitchen. “Uh…”

Steve and Sam look over at him curiously. “What is it?” Steve asks.

Bucky pushes his lips together, uncomfortable. “Spit it out, man,” Sam urges.

Bucky hesitates. “Would you mind making the light a bit dimmer? I mean, would you mind turning the light off and just using the light from the window?” he finally asks. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine. And-”

“Of course, Bucky. That’s all you wanted to ask?”

“Yeah.”

Steve and Sam exchange glances. Bucky’s standing at the entrance to the room like some sort of like a scared animal, as if he expects someone to bite back at him for the small request.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“Nobody here is going to hurt you, okay? Remember that.”

Bucky gives him a small smile and nods. “I try to remember.”

“I know it’s hard, but we’re here for you, okay?”

“And I’m here for you guys.” Bucky doesn’t want charity, and he  _ does _ like Sam. It takes him a very long time to trust, now, but when he does, he trusts completely.

Steve breaks into a massive smile and puts his hands on his hips after flicking off the kitchen light. Plenty of sunlight still streams in from the windows, casting the room in pale blue-white-yellow.  “And to think you guys once hated each other.”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Bucky and Sam say in unison. Steve grins but complies, crossing to the kitchen countertop and taking the bag of cookie cutters from a cabinet. 

Steve upends the bag, spilling the cookie cutters all across the counter. Sam sees that there are your typical circles of different sizes but also a christmas tree, an angel silhouette, a six-pointed star, a five-pointed star, and a pumpkin.

“Why a pumpkin?” Bucky asks, lifting it up and looking at it. He turns it back and forth as if doing so will reveal its secrets.

“Shit. Guess I forgot to shelve that with the rest of the Hallowe’en stuff,” Steve replies sheepishly. He takes the cutter and shoves it into his back pocket. “Anyway, you’re sure you’re down to cover cookie duty?”

“’Course. These kids are going to be really, really happy this Christmas,” Sam nods. “Bucky and I’ll figure it out.”

Steve smiles and kisses the top of Bucky’s head and then Sam’s. “Dough is in the fridge. I made it a couple days ago, but I’m sure it’ll still be good.” He opens the refrigerator, roots around, pulls it out, and tosses it to the counter, where it lands next to the mess of cookie cutters with a satisfying, dull,  _ thud _ .

Sam prods it with a finger. “I didn’t know you liked to cook,” he observes.

“Well, it was a more productive distraction than punching punching bags off the wall.”

Bucky mutters something that sounds a lot like ‘show-off.’ Sam chuckles. “You go do your thing, Steve. Bucky and I have got this covered.”

Steve grins again and turns to leave. Bucky and Sam turn to each other, then to the cookie cutters scattered across the kitchen counter.

Sam lifts a circle. Bucky lifts a star. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Bucky asks, with a tiny smile. 

Sam smirks. “He’ll be  _ so  _ pissed.”

“Exactly.”

 

They set to work making every inch of cookie dough into Captain America’s shield.


End file.
